Through times of unbalance
We stand on weighty scales
Pondering each side
Which wins, which fails
The sun goes down each day
Like an anchor in the sea’s floor
We graciously abide with less, while needing more
Smiles of momentary bliss flow
Though not many deeply know
One reality from another
In the life of a strange mother

Share this:

Like this:

Continual Resort #10|Checking Traps

Image courtesy of stockimages at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Donny finally managed to compose his list of ingredients for his new entrée idea although he was quite perturbed by the days events. Not knowing how this weekend would play out and not caring much, Donny gave Sandy the heads up to let everyone else know that he was taking the rest of the day off and would not be back until Tuesday. In an odd way, he did find some comfort in being able to take time to gather his thoughts on all that was happening in his life. He also felt better about being able to plan on seeing his daughter during his time off. It would give him a chance to casually question Sheralyn about what she may or may not know about Linda’s sneaking around.

He truly did not want to become suspicious and cause things between himself and Linda to blow up again, but he could not help but wonder because his father had actually told the truth – for once. Donny was determined to not let his family issues to destroy what he had with Linda, but still…he needed to understand what was going on right under his nose.

Pushing all doubts aside before leaving work, Donny thought about John, because he would be stopping by the store on the way home. “I guess I’ll hook old boy up today.” With an ample ‘to-go’ box in a bag, Donny quickly headed towards Walmart so that John’s meal would still be reasonably warm once he received it.

“Awww, so you remembered me after all! Thanks man!” John graciously took the bag from Donny who was happy to be of some use to the man who sat regularly in front of the store…asking and hoping for help from somewhere – anywhere. John smiled. “Is this that mah-hee-mah-hee thang that I had at your place that day?”

“Yeah, uh…it’s actually my dad’s place. He worked a long time and went through a lot of shit to get there too, so I sorta learned what I know from him.”

John already knew full well the information that Donny had freely and unknowingly given him before he left. John was sure that Donny knew nothing about how his father had actually ‘worked his way up’, but as soon as the fitting season arrived, the perfect storm would blow into all of their lives without warning, and John vowed that he would either live or die through it – satisfied.

**

With her last client happy and gone, Linda quickly and thoroughly cleaned her utensils and station before heading to her mother’s house to tell her the good news about the meeting with the agent from the Angel Investment program. Sheralyn answered her daughter’s excited rapping and doorbell ringing; curious about what had caused Linda’s elated actions.

She brushed past her mother and headed for her usual seat at the kitchen table.

“Oh, mom I don’t have time for coffee right now. I’m so excited I could just burst! ”

“And that is exactly what looks like will happen if you don’t spit it out, but aren’t you forgetting something – or should I say – someone?”

“Oh, my goodness mom…I’m sorry. Bri must be asleep because she didn’t come to the door with you as usual.”

“Well, you’re right and I’m glad that she was asleep because you would have knocked the poor child over and stepped on her on your way in. I barely managed to keep myself standing.” Sheralyn smiled knowing that Linda had very good news, so she calmly sat at the table, waited, and listened. “So, what’s all the hoopla about?”

Linda composed herself a bit and began to explain the call from the agent who would be aiding her in the start-up of her salon. She explained in great detail her conversation with Steve and asked Sheralyn if she would keep Brianne another day so that she could attend her meeting the following day to which her mother agreed but noticed that Linda had not mentioned Donny.

“Well, I’ll say it this way…I’m really happy for you and I’m very hopeful that you know what you are getting into, but this does seem a bit hasty. On the other hand, this may well be the break that you need, but you do know to not let anyone rush you until you have all aspects in place mentally and otherwise, right? I also notice that you apparently have not spoken to Donny about all of this – right again?”

Linda calmed down considerably, realizing that she had not fooled her mother through all of her animated gestures and fast talking in hopes that Sheralyn would not question her about the details that she had purposefully omitted. Although she suddenly did not want to have this discussion, it was inevitable so again, the explanations accompanied by some meager excuses began. Linda told her mother that she had not yet had a chance to speak with Donny but would be sure to tell him a little ‘white lie’ about her having to work late on Saturday. She explained that it was not time to discuss everything with him as yet, because she wanted to make sure that she was actually ready to move forward. Promising that she would in time tell Donny everything and that he deserved to know because their finances depended on it, Linda somewhat gave assurance that things had to be this way for the time being. Sheralyn held a look of skepticism, but accepted what she was told for fear of putting a damper on Linda’s gleeful demeanor, but despite all, she still needed to delve deeper.

“So what you’re saying is that I should not make mention of your plans for tomorrow and after you’re sure of all of this, you will have a talk with the father of your child? Linda, you know that I don’t like lying about anything no matter how crucial it may be, but I guess I’ll have to let it slide this time…I just don’t understand why he can’t know beforehand.”

“Oh mom! Can’t you see? Like I said, this really is happening kind of fast and I really need to be absolutely sure of everything involved. It’s not that I think things won’t work out. The agent – Steve, is so nice to me and he explains everything so plainly. This program is on the lookout for potential entrepreneurs and they help people in the community so I’m actually just being extra careful. You know how I am…I have to see it through to the end before I spill the beans. Steve has already made it clear that I won’t be rushed into anything and there will be some involvement in learning the ropes which is a good thing. He assured me that he would be with me every step of the way with anything that I needed to learn and that I wouldn’t have to worry about being funded and left without knowing anything else afterwards. Mom, you’ve just got to do this for me this one time!”

By this time, Brianne awakened to the noise of her mother’s pleading and came into the kitchen for a hug and kiss, glad to see her. She climbed into Linda’s lap, nestling her little head comfortably into her mother’s bosom and went back to sleep. Linda rocked her lovingly as Sheralyn spoke again.

“Sweetheart, I’ve known you since before the day you were born…there is still something you’re not telling me. I’m not willing to drag it out of you so I’ll just voice my suspicions. I’m sure that you already know what I’m talking about, but please tell me that this Steve guy looks like an ogre and has no other hope in life besides whatever he is doing to earn money. Her daughter gave no answer. “I thought so. Linda, you’ve got to stop this fantasizing and make up your mind about what you really want for your life. You’ve done this sort of thing ever since you were a girl and though you are still young now, you are living a grown-up life. Please don’t get yourself into any trouble. I know that you and Donny were on really shaky ground not too long ago, but you guys seem to have done well since then. Make up your mind and let business be business…don’t go out on a whim simply because you are letting your imagination get the best of you.”

Linda almost cringed at her mother’s ability to read her and be precisely right in her thoughts and suspicions. “Damn”, she thought. She couldn’t get anything past her mother. Linda had indeed enjoyed Steve’s attentiveness and gentleman-like qualities when they’d met in person. Their phone conversation had induced even more ‘getaway from reality’ images in her mind about this stranger falling hopelessly in love with her and taking her away to live a rich and blissful life on an island far away from the norm. Fully aware that these scenarios were merely a portal through which she could temporarily erase that fateful night when her baby’s father raised his hand to her in a brief yet violent spell of anger and distrust, Linda iterated that she was and would continue to be faithful to her relationship and that she was well aware that everyone made mistakes, especially due to the fact that she had thrown the first several blows. She and Donny would be just fine, she told Sheralyn, but inside she asked herself, “Won’t we?”

*

That night, they were free in their own ways, but both had and hid their reservations about their circumstances. Donny’s frustrations followed him home. Thoughts of his brother’s remarks and nasty attitude along with his father’s impromptu syrupy sweet friendliness that was sure to morph into an explosive and disastrous poster child for parental fuck-ups ran back and forth in his memory despite the mixture of liquor and herbal smoke invading his psyche only to induce an urge to release all. Linda’s high gave her the same urge to release the build-up of excitement, nervousness, and apprehension from all aspects of her day at work and with her mother.

Relaxed and willing, their lovemaking occurred in heated throes , though not from passion as much as the need to be free if only for a brief span of time. Their tryst soon became a hurried abruptness which would have failed Donny in Linda’s behalf had it not been for her savior – her imaginings that enabled her to reach the pinnacle of pleasure that had almost escaped her. Despite an unexpected yet satiated end to this episode of physical action, Donny was able to detect that Linda had a lot on her mind just as he did. She told him that she would be working late the next day after he spoke about his trying day. He accepted her statements and understood that her schedule was the reason for Brianne’s absence. Donny showed no inhibitions about their conversation though his suspicions grew. He had to keep his cool to avoid the potential for another argument, so he again kept his feelings hidden. Trying to see things as positively as possible, he looked forward to being able to sleep in late on Saturday and visit his baby. He also mentally broke himself down enough to take Donald up on his offer to save his material until that Monday. Still apprehensive about riding around with his father, Donny kissed Linda goodnight, turned over, and they both slept…anxious to experience what the events of the next day would bring.

**

Donald had finally convinced Jesse to take her meds. For some reason, she had no intentions on going through this process, but gave in to her husband’s admonitions. He wet a cool hand towel to place on her forehead while continuing to try to encourage her of the wonderful weekend that they were sure to have. Their son would be over, and hopefully everyone would be present at church on Sunday to stand under his voice as he led the congregation in an earnest prayer, and they would all have dinner at Robertson’s.

“Don’t worry dear…everything is going to be all right. You just rest now, Jesse…I love you.”

Share this:

Like this:

The next morning came as usual with Linda not realizing that she had fallen asleep on top of the covers. With a groggy head, she headed for the shower to wash away the dizzying high that had apparently lasted during her deep slumber. It was Saturday which was always her day to go and get her daughter from her mother who lived only about half an hour away. It was a neighborhood that was slightly better than the one she grew up in. Sheralyn now lived in a house which was improvement number one. Where Linda had grown up was a horse of a different color in that their front yard consisted of the dirty confined space in front of their trailer. Sheralyn had an actual lawn now. The environment was not plagued with chemically dependent individuals who had time bombs for tempers, and the area was clean. Everyone pretty much minded their own business with the exception of that one nosy neighbor that most neighborhoods have the pleasure of knowing, even if not by choice.

While brushing her hair back and binding it with a scrunchy into the usual ponytail that she wore daily unless she was going out for a night of fun, Linda thought back to the small dorm sized refrigerator that housed eggs, milk, ice cream, and not much else. Although they also kept an ample supply of potato chips, boxed cakes, and canned meats in their little cabinet, the idea of home cooked meals was a mere fantasy because back then, they never knew when they would have to pack their garbage bags and boxes, head out, and leave for another trailer.

Linda truly felt that her mom wanted to do better in those days because she eventually did, but at that time, it was easier said than done. Her father – Stanley Wright, had been working for a local mechanic shop that helped him to provide somewhat, but he did not feel that what they had in their small abode was enough, and when he decided to hook up with some fellows in the park to run a lab in one of the vacant trailers, things were good need-wise, but this ride was short-lived. Linda was sure that her sister just as she would never forget the day that the NARCS burst through their door and made everyone inside lay face down – guns in position while other officers tore their home apart creating much more clutter than what already existed, and later handcuffing her dad (who had nowhere to hide) and taking him away. With no money for his wife to bail him out, it was the last day that Linda remembered seeing her father. With a charge of five years, there was no way that Sheralyn could help him, and over that five year span, Sheralyn and her children assumed that Stan had gone on with his life somewhere else, with someone else…with a new life…somehow.

Despite Stan’s angry outbursts of frustration that often became violent – however, brief incidents involving Sheralyn, Linda had vowed to herself the day that she turned fourteen that no man would ever treat her that way. “One hell of a birthday gift.” Linda thought aloud. Her torn feelings about her parents’ actions and her love for her otherwise happy-go-lucky but seriously paranoid father crept up through the back stairwell of her memories like a medieval king shouting death penalizing orders from his throne to armored knights who would drag a fort encamped kingdom invader to the guillotine to suffer his inevitable demise. “His severed head on a platter is my wish.”, the king would say as Linda imagined her dad’s loud yells at herself, sister, and mother to just sit down and shut the fuck up for a friggin’ minute so that he could friggin’ hear himself think. If there had only been shouts and yells, Linda felt that they all could have dealt with these outbursts a little easier had it not been for the whiskey bottles, ammonia containers, shoes, and anything else that he could get his hands on to throw before ultimately knocking her mother off of her feet just before profusely apologizing to the two young girls who were forced to watch in horror.

During these incidents, Sheralyn would usually get herself up as quickly as possible to show her girls that she wasn’t actually hurt, but the truth rang loudly when on this particular occasion, she did not rise immediately and Linda’s older sister ran to a neighbor to get help. All in all, Sheralyn never made a trip to the hospital in hopes that she would prevent her children from being taken away. Linda remembered her mother sitting while holding an ice pack on her face as she and her sister sang “Happy Birthday”. Stan had stormed out in frustration and did not return until the next morning.

Her mother was determined that a better life, environment, and day would come to them if she could only make it ‘this time.’ Sheralyn would explain to the girls on those nights that though things looked bad, she still loved them and that their lives would get better.

Though they were young, Linda and Sheryl knew full well that their mother had gotten herself into a situation that was practically impossible to get out of, but with their mother’s constant and seemingly empty explanations, they still had hope that what she was telling them would one day come to pass.

With a splash of cold water from the bathroom tap and a shake of her head, Linda washed away the negatives that always greeted her in the mirror each morning. Showered, dressed, and without a second thought, Linda made her way to the kitchen for a glass of juice before taking off for her mom’s house. “Shit…should’a known better…I’ll just stop and get some on the way back.” Grabbing her purse and heading for the front door, Linda knew that Donny had left the empty jug of orange juice lying dormant in the refrigerator. It didn’t matter…she’d had her good time too, but by it being the weekend, she would need another jug for them both. The apartment complex was enough for their lifestyle accompanied by occasional parties, gatherings, and important company, but she still hoped for something better just like her mom, and she would have it someday…by any means necessary.

She did not deserve to wait endlessly whether Donny worked his ass off or not, she needed more – she and her baby would get it – as soon as she could manage, and in the meantime, she would make sure that while Brianne was in her custody she would eat as well there as she did while at her mom’s house. “M’kay, gotta stop at the store too, no biggie.” All plans in order, Linda had made her way down the stairs and to her car with her thoughts clear and ready for the day ahead.

Donny’s Night…

His confusion and unease had finally simmered once he’d had enough drinks. The orange juice was gone and there was just enough vodka for one more drink, but at that time, he did not feel like travelling the five-minute walk to the store for more. He knew that Linda had to go get Brianne from her grandmother’s house and upon noticing, would also stop for more juice. By the same token, he realized that Linda knew that he would be bringing in a fresh bottle of vodka along with other treats. Although he had enjoyed the buzz from the night before, he did not end up falling asleep, but rather up with pen and pad which sat on his end table to hurriedly jot his thoughts until he could get to his father’s house to file his entries and save them. He could not wait for the day to come when he had his own laptop where he could continue building his collection of rhymes, and hopeful lyrics that he dreamed would someday become a reality once published and accepted by any famous producer or at least anyone – famous or not – who was willing to hire him as a songwriter.

His father did not support him or his dreams except for allowing him to save his weekly entries as long as he promised not to post anything publicly. “I know I raised you better than this boy! Why can’t you just face facts and get into the business like I’ve worn my head grey trying to convince you for the past seven years? It’s just no damn sense talking to you, so go on and write your little words, so you can get the hell outta here! How can I call you my son when I have to watch you screw up your life day after day? Well…know this…you will either shit or get your ass off of the damn pot, cause I’ll be damned if I’ll give you another stinkin’ penny when you’re hell-bent on layin’ up with that tramp thinkin’ I’m gonna keep helping you. Write your shit and be gone!”

He listened to the same lecture each weekend, but Donny dealt with it along with swiping up the rubber bands from newspaper subscriptions that his father so graciously elected to save for him which would be lying on his kitchen table. As weird as it seemed to him, Donny accepted his father’s rejection, anger, and collection of rubber bands knowing that he had committed an unforgivable sin in not following his footsteps in the family business, but his words as Donald Sr. called them had led him to instead follow his heart and mind. It was a fact of life that could not be helped.

Related articles

Share this:

Like this:

It has been four years since my mother passed away, but somehow it does not seem that long. The years have simply gone by in a flash although the first days after it happened were very difficult. It seemed that time moved rather slowly- painfully slow, and later on time began to fly and the next thing I knew, I had made it through the first year with my sanity somewhat still in tact. Her birthday was on Dec. 13, my youngest son was born on Jan. 13, and she passed on Feb. 13…strange…I normally am not a ‘numbers’ person, but the number thirteen has become quite significant to me now.

I thought that I would be sad and depressed when this time of year rolled around but that is not the case. The death of my parents had always been my greatest fear in not knowing whether I would be there to actually witness their last breath…I was not there although I had been with them both the day before.

The mind can be a very strong force in one’s life especially when that person is unwilling to face reality due to their greatest fear. I literally watched my parents dying gradually each day for many months but even up until the last day that I saw my mother in the hospital, and despite the telling dreams that I had which I assume were for the purpose of preparing me for the inevitable, my mind simply ‘put it away’ of course until it happened. An unnatural calm came over me as I casually informed my husband and then seven-year old daughter that momma was dead. That is how I said it – calm voice, “Momma is dead, I need to go to the hospital.” All while I hand pumped enough milk for my 4-week-old during my absence. Despite the reports from nurses that she would be okay, I still knew deep down that she would not leave that hospital as she came in. How does one know and not know at the same time? Well, I did. A couple of days beforehand, I was on the phone with her and my oldest sister. She was talking gibberish, (which was really big hint) that I ignored, and suddenly completely coherent, she told my sister good-bye. Then she went back to the gibberish talk and a chill went down my spine when she called out to her own mother and brother saying, “I’m ready!” My heart sank. And there was total silence on the phone for some time before my sister who was in the room with her took the phone and we hung up – my hands shaking like a leaf.

I am having a really hard time writing this. At first I was not going to write a Mother’s Day post, but something keeps telling me to do it through silent tears and despite this cruel discomfort that I didn’t even know I had. I guess it is to make a point and to help myself understand what has lain dormant in my heart for some time. Maybe it will help someone else too.

Several months before her transition, I had a dream (one of many) that let me know what would happen eventually. Both of my parents were plagued with health problems. My father lay helpless in the VA while my mom struggled but was still somewhat active. She was still walking, talking, etc., still functioning with the exception of those days when nothing was normal. (another hint) Anyway, the dream went like this…I am holding my moms hand, my oldest sister is holding my father’s hand and we are high up on some type of platform (it was blue) and felt like those inflated moonwalkers and slides that kids play on.

I still don’t know what that meant, but we were surrounded by clouds and blue skies overhead although we seemed to be inside of somewhere. Mom and I seemed to be in a hurry as we were jogging along trying to get to this wooden door, so I looked back to see that my sister and dad had come through the door behind us. All of a sudden as mom and I are right in front of this door, she wriggled her hand out of mine (I was holding very tightly) and she said, “I’m here now, I gotta go!” The door opened, she ran through, I saw clouds and blue skies, and the door quickly closed in my face. I could hear my dad struggling on the unstable platform as he tried to run…my sister was holding his hand and I grabbed the other. Upon reaching that same door that my mom went through, it opened again as my sister and I still holding his hands swung him into the clouds and the door closed. I looked down to see that there was a clear place on the platform and as I looked through it, I could see my other three sisters standing there. I don’t know what they were saying. I woke up. My parents died 4 months apart… I call both of their dying days their ‘new birthdays’.

I can’t help but think that she decided to go first because she simply could not bear to watch my dad die as he did. If he got sick, she did too and vice versa. One could not fall without the other, but after over fifty years who would?

For many weeks afterwards, I continued to have a series of extremely realistic dreams so much that upon awakening, I had to remind myself that my parents were no longer on this earth, (It still happens to this day) but that night at the hospital when my daughter and I went to see my mother’s body (I didn’t know whether to take her or not, but she was not taking no for an answer), I combed her hair for the last time, cried, and my daughter sang a song as the family stood around saying their last words. Once home and in bed, I was freezing and my husband held me in a fierce embrace contemplating the ‘breakdown’. It didn’t happen. I actually began to go back and forth – dozing and waking right back up. I distinctly remember not being completely asleep when the strangest thing happened. Lost in thought about how to go to tell dad (he seemed to already know), I felt my mom’s hand cupped on the side of my face like one does when preparing to whisper a secret. She spoke directly into my ear (not a whisper – I heard clearly) saying, “I wanted to go, now you handle it.” Of course I called out to her, “Momma?!” She sounded as if she was in a hurry. “You heard me…I wanted to go now you handle it from now on!” I immediately awoke my snoring husband to tell him what had just happened…he understood, I thanked God and slept peacefully with no dreams.

I made the arrangements with some help from my siblings…the funeral was beautiful…not much standing room it was so full…I kept checking the side mirror en route to the burial and never did see the end of the line up which practically wrapped around the entire cemetery.

A lot happened in the days that followed. After two weeks, the breakdown came, but I recovered quickly as I heard my little girl awake. I am sure that her songwriting began in order to make her way through her pain, and she has the voice of a songbird. We talk often, because I know that she was unable to grasp the true meaning of what happened. She was the strongest little soldier ever until they closed the casket. I heard my baby say that she didn’t want them to close the box on Dorothy Doll (That was her nickname for her grandma as Baby Doll the nickname given to her by my mom.) I didn’t hold her when she began to cry…she covered her little face with the program and let her tears flow although she was quiet. I froze – unable to comfort my own child as she leaned on my sister. I felt like such a failure right then and this still bothers me now. Herein lies ‘my help’ the true purpose for this post. I feel as if I abandoned her that day and she has never gotten over it although she has never said anything about it, but I know what I have to do now. We have to cry together because I don’t think that has ever happened. I have tried to be strong for her, but I feel now that this was a mistake. I realize now that in my attempts to be strong, I am turning to stone…could it be that I am trying to keep my own pain at bay? She was extremely close to my parents but she is able to open up more now that she is a bit older…she dreams now. I thank my mom for that.

My mother had written two poems that she wanted included on her funeral program…I will be sure to post them. She was quite the poet and I thank her for passing that down to me.

I made it through the post. I guess that my purpose for it was to say that I owe my daughter an apology and that I don’t actually feel that emptiness that people talk about when a loved one dies. Yes, I know that I cannot hug, kiss, or talk on the phone with her daily as we did before, but in a way, I feel closer to her and dad now than I did while they went through all the sickness. Their better days were already behind them and now their days are complete bliss. Of course I still have sad days, basically from what she and dad went through but my mom was also a dreamer. I thank her for passing that down to me also, and I still tell her Happy Mother’s Day…I truly believe that she hears me.

The latest dream that I had (day before yesterday), we spent the whole day together and she looked beautiful. Once again, I had to tell myself that she is not here. Nevertheless, I am a living witness that ‘weeping may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning’.

Share this:

Like this:

my faith in God. There have been so many instances and incidents where I could have easily given up and said screw it all, but why would I do that? If my mind and heart has been staid all of these years up until now, I figure that there is no reason for me to change unless something so drastic happens that I have no choice. I am here to tell you now that the beginning of my very life was so drastic once I learned about it as well as one other situation during my childhood that I am convinced and that there is not much left that can change what I believe now…it just wouldn’t make much sense to say that what has occurred over my lifetime was merely a compiled set of incidents that can only be attributed to coincidence.

Let’s begin at my entrance into this world. I know that I was there, but the fact that I was being born at the time should make clear the point that I actually had no idea what was actually going on in a realistically conscious sense. However, spiritually I must say that I very well may have known what was happening at the time, because all things work together for the good – right?

Okay. Long story short, I was not even supposed to be born because as my mother (R.I.P. Momma!) stated years ago that despite being under somewhat heavy sedation due to pre-natal distress, she could hear the doctor saying what a shame it was to have to ‘let the baby go’ in order to save the mother who had four other children to raise and that it was the best decision that he could make given the situation. He had decided that it would make more sense to save the mother of this unborn child who just happened to far exceed the birth weight that mother was able to accommodate (as never having had a baby over five pounds due to some other issue) instead of saving the baby and leaving the father with four children to raise by himself while having to work to take care of them at the same time.

This was not a common deal back in November of 1970, so the doctor stated that the child would have to be aborted immediately as a result of being too large to even attempt the journey through my mother’s severely and insufficiently capacious birth canal. For some reason, there was no time for an emergency C-section which has become the savior of today’s distressed births. I am not sure if there were no epidurals back then or what – I just remember Momma saying that time had run out and there was no other choice but to inevitably abort.

Keeping in mind that I was a rather sneaky kid who did not always follow the golden rule of actually leaving the room when ‘grown folks’ were talking, I could overhear the discussion one night as Momma and whoever company was (probably her sisters who were all in agreement that this was one of the most frightening times of their own lives) reminisced over the situation some odd years later. I will never forget how badly I regretted being a master eavesdropper that night which in turn caused me to obey that golden rule from then on…mostly anyway.

She then began to describe what she was thinking (while under) about how her precious baby would die and how devastated she would be afterwards. The next statements really threw me for a loop as she spoke about how she heard a ‘voice’ telling her to pushregardless of the fact that she had already heard her OBGYN say that she would die upon giving birth. The story went on to describe how my mom felt herself tearing as I came out while the doctor and his crew frantically rushed to prepare themselves for this shocking change in plans while also readying themselves to inform my dad of the deaths that were definitely in store. She said that she knew that I was here when she realized that she had totally ‘come apart’ while the staff took care of a perfectly healthy baby just before performing a very intricate re-constructive surgery in order to try to get her back to somewhat normal. As a result, the next baby that was born into our family, Mom ended up having a scheduled C-section five years later because a regular birth was completely out of the question.

Anyway, Momma went on to describe an incident where she mentioned ‘hemorrhaging’ which could not have been good due to the fact that she said that she collapsed and was rushed back to the hospital for however long – me at the age of a few days, she had to depend on sisters to take care of the baby and the other kids while Dad worked. Apparently someone stayed at the house with us while Mom was in the hospital – I don’t remember who, but I did have some siblings who were old enough to help out.

Somehow, Momma came back home, healed, and went back to her normal mothering, cooking, taking care of home, and being the best mother that anyone could ever ask for. She attributes us making it through that ordeal strictly to God because of that voice along with the rest of the miraculous events such as her very survival. She told everyone that I was her ‘miracle child’. Though I had no idea of how to live up to that name, I tried my best although I’m sure that I didn’t do so well along the way years after, but that is my first reason for my undying faith.

The next comes from a regular doctor’s visit to my pediatrician at around the age of seven. They found a problem with my heart. Irregular beat, murmur, and after several abnormal EKGs and ultrasounds, I would need open heart surgery to correct the problem. Now, the final decision was made around the age of eleven because I was still going to my original pediatrician for some years before the problem was officially diagnosed. I cannot remember the actual name of the problem, but it was there – found by the new doctor and the specialist that he referred us to. Something about a blocked valve is all that I can really remember.

I find it strange how I can remember some things just a little bit while others as if it were yesterday, but I do remember my mom on the phone with church members and relatives speaking about them all planning to pray at certain times of the day. One day in particular, she was on the phone while ironing everyone’s clothes for the week. We were in hers and Dad’s bedroom, when I suddenly stopped paying attention to what was on TV. I saw a little lady (that is how I remember it) appear right in front of me, bathed in white and light. Mom was talking about how they were keeping up with their prayers and how she would NOT lose me after all that it took to bring me into this world when the little lady smiled at me. We did not speak, but I knew what she was saying as she and I- apparently (as I know now), communicating telepathically. My mom had no idea of what was going on with me while this was happening and I didn’t mention it until much later.

I can distinctly remember having no fear of dying which I knew would surely happen if I had the surgery. The little lady told me that there was nothing to fear and I told her that I didn’t want to die because it would hurt my whole family and they would be crying. First of all, I could never stand the thought of either of my parents crying, but after all – I was the ‘miracle child’. All of this was happening with no one talking except my mom and whoever she was on the phone with. The lady bathed in white and light said that great was my faith and love, so all that I needed to do was to pray for my friend. I would live and not die (she shook her head – no), but I would have some sadness in my life although I would get through that also. Little sparks of light went from her and landed on me as I accepted what she said, somehow knowing the ‘friend’ that she implied. It is still funny now how I felt that day, seeing the peace, joy, and unconditional love that I would experience, but choosing to stay put because I pretty much had it already. The little lady thanked me and disappeared. I felt a calm as my mom hung up the phone.

She had been talking to the Avon lady who had a daughter that had become quite close to me over time. She had been scheduled to go in for the exact same surgery that I was, but my mom and our church were praying for her too!

I said my prayer for my friend. A couple of years later in our pre-teens Taska (my friend) had gone through the same surgery that I was supposed to have had, but didn’t after the doctors could NOT find the problem that they had seen before, (believe me, they looked for it) but miraculously, it was no longer there. I could now join the marching band with no worries, and the day that Taska and her mother came to visit, I was ecstatic! She showed me her zipper just before we discovered that she also had become a flute player in her high school’s band. (There was no middle school back then) – We watched our mothers cry in relief while praising that same God that had seen fit to bring me into this world, I guess for the very purpose of being living proof that faith in Him does pay off.

I have seen many other miracles happen to others in my life…things that you would probably say are a coincidence or maybe you would even say that it didn’t even happen, but I would not be writing this if it hadn’t. I don’t knock what anyone believes and I don’t accept being knocked either, so what happened – happened, and I am proud to say that it did. Life was different then, and today as a real-life non-church going yet full-fledged believing Christian, (I have changed my views on some things over time and I do not attribute my outcome to ‘church’ but faith), I can honestly say that… with all of this being said and much more to come…

Share!

Follow Blog via Email

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,076 other followers

Categories

Categories

Copyright Notice for Charlene Woodley, Brighter Poetics, 2012-2013

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of material found on this blog without express or written permission from the blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited with the exception of 'reblogging' Wordpress.com users. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlene Woodley at Brighter Poetics with the appropriate and specific direction to the original content.